Coping
by Beckydaspatz
Summary: Sequel to Okay, more Oz/Willowness...cause I can


A.N.: So this is a sequel to "Okay" because my very best friend after reading it sent an angry text that said "HOW DARE YOU LEAVE IT LIKE THAT!" and so…sequel time! Because I both love and fear her. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, not now, not ever

Willow didn't know how she had ended up sitting Indian style on her sofa on the living room. She couldn't quite remember if she had been carried or walked back into her apartment. She was painfully aware of the fact that she had no makeup on and looked like a drowned rat. Oz was sitting on the opposite side of the couch. He was tapping a hand against his thigh gently, his eyes not meeting her gaze, but not avoiding it either. He just…was. She had always been so jealous of his ability to just exist in the moment, the fact that he never panicked. Her face flushed as she remembered just exactly how he had 'panicked' She resumed her habit of nervously fiddling with the frayed ends of her pajama pants as Oz spoke "Are you ok?"

She laughed nervously in response, smoothing a strand of rebellious red from her face. "Me? Yeah, I'm okay, better than ok. Fine even. " she stated as Oz nodded once. "That's good." He said. "Yeah. It is good, so you can go…I mean if you want to. I'm alright by myself." A pang of hurt flashed across his face for a split second before his trademark stoicism slid back in place. "If you want me to," he started, lifting his frame from the couch. "NO!" she yelled suddenly, reaching for him, her hand closing on air."I don't want you to, I just don't want to be a burden to you if you have other things…" her voice drifted off as Oz placed himself back down. "Sorry." Willow mumbled. "No big deal." He assured her.

"How do you do that?" she asked flabbergasted as he turned his head. "What?" "That!" she cried, waving a hand at his nonchalant figure. "You're always so cool and collected and aloof. You're never worried or freaked out and me…I'm always worried and freaked out. Never still or just you know calm." "I noticed." He said, humor dancing in his eyes. "Oh! You know what I mean." "I do." "It always drove me crazy that you are so composed all the time." She let out a frustrated breath, bringing her hands to rest back in her lap. "But I'm not." He replied softly. "How so?" she inquired. "Being here, with you, it's…complicated." She shook her head in agreement, waiting for him to continue. "It's like I like it you know. Being here, with you. It's nice, comfortable. But at the same time …it's like talking to a stranger. It's weird."

"But Oz, you and I aren't," "Strangers…we kinda are." He shifted, moving his body so that it faced her. "So here's the thing, it's like we're strangers cause you know, life. But…" his hand crossed the distance between them, catching her digits in his own. "You're still Willow." She lowered her head. "I don't feel like Willow." She whispered. "You'll always be Willow." He answered. Her eyes clashed with his, trying to convey everything she felt in that one stare. "Oz," she breathed, her breath hitching in her chest as his whole body moved in to covers hers.

His lips were soft on hers, and shy, almost as if asking permission which she readily gave, molding her form into his. Her hands reached behind his back, clawing at the fabric, trying to desperately to get closer to him as he fisted fingers into her hair. She smiled against his lips, loving the feel of his tongue sliding like velvet on hers. It would be so easy to lose herself in him, she thought as his lips pulled away to kiss her cheek, then back to her mouth, caressing it lovingly. It felt so good, so right, nothing had felt this right since "Tara." she gasped as Oz pulled away. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as she stifled a sob. "Oh God Oz...I'm sorry" she met his gaze, tears pouring from pools of green. "I just...never stopped. I mean I loved Tara...with all my heart. But you...I never stopped." she was sobbing again, shoulders shaking with grief. "I always had a spot in my heart that still loved you." she leaned over into her stomach, still crying.

Oz moved closer to her, putting a hand on her back and pulling her into his embrace. "I know." he stated, brushing tears away from her ivory cheeks. "I feel the same way." he replied as she looked up at him. "Oz, I don't want you to be a rebound, or someone I just use for comfort." "Well at least we are on the same page." he mumbled into her hair. "So what should I do? What should we do? Is there a we?" He laughed softly. "I know exactly what you mean." "Well?" "Do you want us to be a we?" he questioned. "I think so. I mean as long as there isn't another she you need to be a we with?" "No," he chortled. "No other she." "Then I think I want to take it slow." he moved away from her with a half grin. "I can do slow." she returned the smile. "Good, slow is good."was her reply as she flicked on the TV. After a few moments her fingers crossed the space in between them to intertwine their fingers. At his bewildered look Willow smirked. "What? I said slow not screeching halt."

A.W.: Ok I am ending it here for two reasons, I like Willows' last line. And secondly...Oz is freaking hard to write for...damn near impossible! Sorry if I didn't do him justice as he is my second favorite male character. I miss OZ/WILLOW, loved Tara/Willow, but Kennedys got to go :/ Thanks for taking the time to read this.


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